


arson

by tentaclemonster



Series: 100 Fandoms Challenge [31]
Category: Salem's Lot - Stephen King
Genre: 100 Fandoms Challenge, Gen, Post-Canon, Unfinished Business
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22125931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentaclemonster/pseuds/tentaclemonster
Summary: noun. the crime of purposefully setting fire to a property.
Relationships: Ben Mears & Mark Petrie
Series: 100 Fandoms Challenge [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257083
Kudos: 11
Collections: The 100 Multifandom Challenge





	arson

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: 031/100 for the 100 Fandoms Challenge. Written for prompt #22 – fire.

Ben Mears and Mark Petrie are miles away from ‘Salem’s Lot but the fire they set there is just as easy to see from where they are now. 

The bright orange light of it is visible, as is the smoke of it which hangs above the Lot like a storm cloud, dark and grey, and the scent of the fire has drifted their way too. Woodsmoke clings to their nostrils on every inhale and underneath it, the smell of something worse. The smell of burning rubber and rotten meat cooking on a grill together or perhaps the smell of the inside of an incinerator at a funeral home, if one got it into their head to crawl inside of such a vessel and take a long whiff.

Ben can see the fire and he can smell it but the one thing he cannot do is  _ hear _ it. He can, however, imagine the sounds. The noise of crackling flames quiet as rustling paper at first until the fire grows and the rustling speeds into crescendo, of the whines and splinterings and crashings of buildings collapsing as their supporting beams are burned away from them one by one like amputated limbs, and of the horrible shrieking screams because surely if there is any noise to the fire at all, there must be screams. 

Those creatures can feel pain, Ben knows, and they must be feeling it now for perhaps the first time in their undead lives.

As the houses are burned down, so are the sleeping occupants burned with it. The occupants who have no choice but to writhe in agony as the fire consumes them like a glutton because the only other option is to run outside under the scorching light of the sun and face the same fate there. 

There is no escape for them today and if they can feel pain, then possibly they can also feel fear and if so, Ben feels nothing about it himself but a muted sense of grim satisfaction.

These were once people he knew. Many he liked and probably more he could have liked if he’d gotten a chance to know them. Ben looks at the fire ahead of him and what they will do once it’s burned its course as an unfortunate task that must be carried out to its bitter end but he feels no pleasure at completing it. Only, hopefully, a small bit of relief once it’s finally over.

Next to him, Mark turns to look at the sun over his shoulder not for the first time and when he turns back around, Ben can feel the discomfort in the way he fidgets in his seat radiating from him as easily as he imagines he’d feel the heat of the fire against his skin if only they were a little closer to it.

“We should go now,” Mark says. 

Mark who hasn’t liked being out of doors after dark since they first left ‘Salem’s Lot together, who doesn’t even like having the curtains on the windows of wherever they’re staying open after dark either, and who – to his credit – has a steady voice and a brave face as he speaks just now. 

They’re far enough away from the town to be safe after nightfall from what resides there but all the same, Ben nods in agreement and hops off the trunk of the car. 

“You’re right,” Ben says.

Mark immediately follows his suit and hops off too and if Ben turned to look at him then (and if Mark had less of a poker face), he thinks there would be a mix of thankfulness and relief as plain as the dying day all over the boy’s face.

They make their way around the front of the car and each climb into their side. 

Once in the car, Ben says, “Big day tomorrow. We should get to bed early tonight and get back at first light”

Mark’s only acknowledgment of this statement is a short moment of eye contact and a grim but determined nod before he looks away and rests his head on the glass of the window. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben sees a small movement of Mark’s hand and then hears the tell-tale sound of the car door locking. He locks his own door not a second later and Mark’s body relaxes so quickly that he’s like a puppet whose strings were cut while it was dangling close to the floor.

Ben cranks the car up and drives away with ‘Salem’s Lot burning in the rear-view and the fervent wish in his heart that when they come back here tomorrow to do what needs to be done and leave again on the same road they are leaving on now, it will be the last time they leave and that they will never have to see ‘Salem’s Lot or any of the horrors in it ever again.


End file.
